


Descent

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All things come with a price - Spike just never knew this one would be so high</p>
            </blockquote>





	Descent

It started innocently enough, as a way to help him heal from his injuries, and the extra power was more than welcome. He hadn't counted on it continuing once he was on his feet again, but that had been almost three months ago, and there was no sign that it was stopping anytime soon.

To all outside appearances, Spike had it made - he had one of the few private spaces left in the house, a bed that was decently comfortable, all the violence he could ever want, and the freedom to come and go as he pleased, not to mention enjoying the protection of the Slayer. And then there was the blood. Twice a day, heated and hand-delivered by Buffy herself, the blood alone was worth a king's ransom.

When he'd gained enough of his senses to realize what she was doing, he'd tried to put a stop to it. Too much of her blood and he might start to see her as food, and that could only lead to all manner of badness. But she turned a deaf ear to his arguments, refused to see the temptation she was offering, and when he'd taken to pouring the blood out in a desperate attempt to make her understand, she'd first pleaded and then threatened to chain him up and force it down his throat. And Spike, ever love's bitch, caved and now dutifully drank every last drop.

He hadn't thought about what would happen once he was fully healed, though, and he should have. With the extra power no longer needed for healing, the aphrodisiacal properties of the Slayer's blood had kicked in full force. And without some way to excise the lust his regular feedings kicked up, Spike was discovering an entirely new way to suffer for his sins.

It wasn't in the way he was always hard and unsatisfied, no matter how often he got himself off, or the heightened sensitivity that made the soft cotton of his t-shirt almost unbearably erotic. He could've handled those things, had grown used to wanting without having during Dru's illness and his tumultuous affair with Buffy last year. It wasn't even the way he'd humiliated himself last week, coming in his pants like some high school kid just because Buffy had thrown him down and straddled him on patrol. No, Spike's private hell was made of something far worse than any of that.

As the nights passed with no sign of relief for his body, the lust that threatened to burn him from the inside out had begun to eat at his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about Buffy and the way she had writhed underneath him, about the feel of her nails down his back or her body bucking against his when she came. He'd never stopped wanting her, but this was different. It was a fire in his blood, a wild need that threatened his very sanity, and he was starting to understand how Angel could've considered a night with her worth his very soul.

Spike didn't doubt that it was his own soul at stake now. Not when his dreams were filled with thoughts of pinning her to the floor in scenes of wild ravishment that made the bodice-ripper books Bit hid under her bed look like children's stories. He always woke from them in a cold sweat, horrified that he could even think such a thing after what he'd nearly done... and hard enough to cut glass. And although every night he told himself that tonight he'd endure the pain, he still found himself wrapping his hand around his cock, closing his eyes and letting the images of her bring him to a shuddering climax. He still might have been able to withstand the torture and bear up under the growing strain of his desire, but the thoughts of Buffy were only the beginning of his descent into madness. Lately her face wasn't the only one in his fantasies, and as they grew darker and bloodier, cries that weren't the Slayer's had started to ring in his ears. He saw the witch, her pale skin marked with long cuts that wept blood as red as her hair, felt Harris attempt to push him away as he struggled beneath him, and last night - God, last night he'd heard Dawn weeping and begging him to stop, the sound of her pleas the one thing that sent him hurtling over the edge even as the thought of damaging his precious girl like that sickened him to his very core.

It had to stop. He was on a downward spiral, sliding further south with every swallow of the powerful cocktail that she gave him. And maybe if it was just his own torment, he could handle it. But he knew he wasn't the only one that would pay when his frayed control finally snapped. The day was coming soon when the fantasies would become reality, when he wouldn't be able to hold himself back. He could only hope that someone with a stake would be close by, and that he wouldn't be able to hurt them too badly before he was dust.

Tonight, Spike promised himself. Tonight he'd tell her, explain what her blood was doing to him and ask her to take it away. He'd throw himself on her mercy the way he had after he'd been killing, let her chain him until the craving went away again and he could trust himself once more.

"Earth to Spike..." Buffy's voice pulled him out of his thoughts to where the girl herself stood in front of him, mug in hand. "Hey there, Mr Head-in-the-Clouds. Brought you dinner." She held the cup out and Spike braced himself to tell her that he couldn't take it.

Then he caught sight of her eyes and froze. Hazel depths glinted with a dark light that he knew all too well. He'd seen that look before, although never from her. No, the amusement in her eyes was much more akin to Angelus than to his Slayer. There was no reason to tell her anything - she already knew it all. Realization swept over him in a chilling rush and Spike whispered hoarsely, "Oh my God."

Buffy's smile sent a shiver down his spine. "Baby, don't you remember?" She reached out, fingers lightly touching the glittering jewel that lay on his chest. "He can't hear you down here."


End file.
